Posts Tagged 'flirting'

For those of you following my goings on (Hi Mom!), you may have read some comments on my previous post, and been curious.

Yes, there was an . . . . Incident.

There’s this guy my friends and I all know, and he is cute, and he is off the market. He’s also a flirt. And in this tongue in cheek, campy performance, he was fake canoodling with two of my friends and myself at a bar the other night. He was literally standing in the middle of us, and giving us each bedroom eyes in turn. Only they weren’t bedroom eyes; they were “Bedroom Eyes” wherein those quotes represent air quotes, so, you know, he was REALLY serious. SYKE!

And in the spirit of the over the topness, I did graze his crotch with my elbow. Or, as they say, his penis with my weenis.

So, yeah, I guess one could say that I was effectively flirting with him . . . but in the way that I usually reserve for flirting with gay guys, to be honest.

So, I’ve been a single girl living this Crazy Single Girl Life for almost a year now. That’s a year of going where I want to go, doing what I want to do, out all night, caffeinating all day, seat of my pants, why the hell did I do that, because I could that’s why existence. I have to say, there’s been a bump or two along the way. However, it has been an adventure and definitely the ride of a lifetime. I can’t really complain.

Except one thing. There’s this skill that hasn’t really come back to me yet, after the two and a half years of Serious Relationship Existence, I somehow forgot how to flirt.

OK, so I’m not completely incapable or anything. It’s just that I’m so well out of practice that I’m just not very good at it. It’s like I’m in Junior High again.

Half the time, no one knows I’m flirting. My best friends see me interacting with attractive men, and afterward, I’ll ask, “was I being totally obnoxious and obvious.” They then ask me what I’m talking about, tell me that the thought that I was flirting didn’t even occur to them, and that they’re sure the guy didn’t get it. And I think they’re probably right.

The other half the time, it’s awkwardness to the nth degree. I kiss a guy on his cheek and Run. (Oh Yeah. I did that. Recently.) Or I’m just incapable of completing a sentence while turning Bright Crimson and swallowing half of my words.

And the thing is, I used to be pretty damn good at this. I’m not kidding. And I was so good, and so natural, that I didn’t even know I was doing it. I remember there was one time I was with Mama Bear and we were at a restaurant. A very nice looking server was waiting on us. As soon as he took our order and walked away, she turned to me and said, “I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen someone bat their eyelashes before!” I didn’t even know I was doing it.

Today, I’d have to put serious effort into that, and I’d probably be such a spazz about it, that someone would ask me if I had something stuck in my eye or if I was having a stroke!

I had no idea that this was a skill that could be lost, that this muscle would atrophy.

So, of course I’m not going to be unsingle any time soon, because people either don’t realize that I’m hitting on them or I’m scaring the crap out of them by acting weird. However, when and if the day ever comes when I find myself in a LTR (Long Term Relationship) again, I refuse to cease flirting. I will not let myself go again. Oh no. I will be a lean, mean, flirting machine. And, in other words, the worst GF ever.

In the meantime, all the practice is fun, if not amusing in a sad and pathetic sort of way.

Who needs straight men when gay guys think you’re fabulous just the way you are, and don’t want to take advantage of you?

Of course, I’m a little biased at the moment. I just met the most intriguing gay man in the Castro. He gave me his number. I gave him my number. Maybe it’ll never turn into anything, but I’m hoping we can hang out, and have fun. I think that’s what I need now, more than anything – someone who loves me for the fucked up mess that I am, and doesn’t want me to be anything more or less than that. It’s the perfect symbiotic relationship: gay man/straight woman. I don’t know why it works so well, but it just does.

I’m looking for blind admiration and fruitless flirting here, folks.

Just sayin’.

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